


Broken In

by LadyGaGalion



Series: The Dorwinion Wine Debacle [4]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 07:52:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5198075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyGaGalion/pseuds/LadyGaGalion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thranduil introduces Galion to his new work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken In

"Are you all right, Galion?" Thranduil asks after the doors click shut behind us. He steps in front of me and pulls me against him. "You look as if you expect a Balrog to emerge from the shadows."

"I am well, my lord—" A slight squeeze of his hands on my hips prompts me to correct myself. "Thranduil."

"Good. I thought perhaps you were having second thoughts."

I am not having second thoughts. The truth is that I'm a bit overwhelmed. I visit these chambers daily; I know them as well as if they were my own. But something about coming here as his lover—or prisoner, as he puts it—for the first time makes everything appear foreign and strange. Thranduil is probably going to fuck me on every surface, if there was any truth in what he said to me in the dungeons earlier. And judging by the purr in his voice and the way he's pressing into me, he intends on getting started right away.

It feels unreal. I'm afraid this might all turn out to be a wine-induced dream, like many similar ones I've had that left me with a cold, constricted feeling in my chest upon waking. 

Thranduil tilts my chin up with his fingers. "I would offer you some wine, but you have already had your fair share today."

"Indeed, I have," I say as he fixes me with a glare. The accusation is meant to be playful, I think, but with him it's difficult to tell. "Will you show me how I'll be doing my work here, instead? I'm not sure I understood your meaning earlier." 

"Aye," he says, the corners of his lips quirking, but then his expression grows somber. "Tomorrow is going to be a long day. There is much to be considered after the escape of our prisoner, whom I fear the scouts will be unable to track. I intend on breaking you in before I leave these chambers in the morning."

His choice of words sends a tingle up my spine. He notices my reaction and smirks whilst leaning in. 

The kiss is much different from the few others we've shared. It is deliberate and full of promise. The taste of my earlier release lingers on his tongue as it curls suggestively around mine. His hips rock almost imperceptibly, and I can feel his hardening length rubbing against my thigh. All his movements are slow and controlled; it makes me _burn_ —for him, for more, for faster. But he holds me tightly, one hand around my waist and the other at the back of my head, and I can do naught but submit to this blissful torture for as long as he wishes. 

I manage to work his robes open a bit and slide a hand underneath his tunic. His skin is smooth and hot to the touch. I rub my thumb over a nipple and delight in the way he gasps against my mouth. When I move my hand back down to dip my fingers beneath the waistband of his breeches, he grabs the back of my thigh and lifts me up off the ground. With my legs wrapped around his waist, Thranduil carries me to the bedchamber. 

My heart is thumping in my chest as he deposits me on the bed and grabs the hem of my tunic. Despite my excitement, I find myself pushing back on his knuckles when he tries to lift it up, suddenly nervous about letting him see me naked. I am not a warrior prince from Imladris—whatever his expectations are, I fear I will fall short of them. Years ago I asked a friend to help me hone my skills with a sword, in hopes that the king would find me pleasing to the eyes upon his return from Erebor, but I gave up my efforts after he rejected me. 

"Galion, please." 

Thranduil gives me a quick, reassuring kiss before returning to his task. Reluctantly I let go of his hands and raise my arms so that he can pull the tunic over my head. When I lie back down, his eyes trail down from my chest down to my navel and lower still. A warm hand moves slowly up and down my side, caressing me. "I am really going to enjoy fucking you," he says with such certainty that it starts a tingling low in my belly. 

Soon all our clothes are lying in a heap on the floor. I drink in the sight of Thranduil's beauty as he opens the nightstand drawer and draws out a vial of oil. Those vials have been the bane of my existence for over a millennium. Thranduil announced his need of them when he started taking lovers again, a few centuries after the queen's passing. Ever since, I've breathed sighs of relief upon finding them full and sought solace in the cellars, consumed by jealousy, whenever they'd been used. 

I replaced a nearly empty one just this morning.

Thranduil must have noticed a change in my expression. "It is not what you fear," he says as he crawls in between my legs, guiding me further onto the bed. "I have toys I've been using it with. I will show them to you another time."

His golden hair spills onto my chest as he dips down to kiss me. All I can think about as his tongue slides into my mouth is that he just admitted to using toys on himself. The image forming in my mind is breathtaking: Thranduil lying back against the pillows—his long, lean legs bent at the knees and spread wide open as he fucks himself with some kind of glass or carved stone cock. 

He pulls back and looks down at me with a hint of a smile. "I have not taken a lover since the day I paid you a visit in the cellars." His lips brush my ear as he continues, "After I had tasted your mouth and felt the heat of your body against mine, I could desire no other." 

He brushes my hair away from my neck and kisses beneath my jaw and down towards my collarbone. I reach in between our bodies and take hold of his shaft, and he goes still. His eyes flutter closed and his lips part.

I watch Thranduil's face, so close to mine, as I stroke him—the way he furrows his brow and opens his mouth when I tighten my grip or smear precome over his glans. Beside me, his fingers find the previously abandoned vial and curl around it. 

Thranduil gently pushes my hand away from his cock and grabs a pillow, placing it beneath my hips. Then he sits back on his heels and uncorks the vial. 

I grasp at the sheets as an oil-slicked finger breaches me. It's been a while since I've submitted to anyone. I've almost forgotten how strange this feels. But the discomfort quickly turns into pleasure, and soon Thranduil finds that spot inside me that makes me arch and gasp. A moment later I feel his mouth close around my cock. I raise my head again to watch as his blonde head begins to move in between my thighs.

"Yes, suck it." The words leave my mouth before I can think better of it. Thranduil goes still for a second, clearly not used to being spoken to that way. I brush a strand of hair away from his face, carefully tucking it behind his ear, and that urges him to start moving again—agonizingly slowly, as if to punish me for my insolence. 

I grab fistfuls of his hair, twisting and pulling as he sucks and fingers me to the brink of orgasm; by the time he releases my cock, he's as unkempt as I've ever seen him—hair tousled, cheeks flushed, lips swollen and glistening. A thin strand of saliva clings to his mouth, and I breathlessly watch it stretch until it finally breaks. His cock brushes against the back of my thigh as he pushes my legs up, leaving behind a trail of precome on my skin. Then I feel the moist tip of it between my buttocks. He bends down to kiss me, but I end up mostly panting and moaning against his mouth as he fills me. 

Once he's fully sheathed, Thranduil pulls back and gazes down at me, his hand caressing my thigh whilst he allows me a moment to adjust. There are more emotions in his eyes than I can decipher, and not all of them are positive. I reach up and slide a hand around his neck, wanting to comfort him somehow, wishing he could find nothing but pleasure in our joining. He allows me to pull him back down for another kiss and starts gently rocking his hips as our tongues slide together. 

Every stroke of his cock inside me is bliss. Time stops, and the world around us melts away. Soon all I am aware of is the tingle spreading from my core as Thranduil fucks me faster and harder. I try to last as long as I can, but when he starts jerking me off it only takes a minute or two until I'm clawing at his back and crying out his name. 

He wipes my come off my belly and gives me a moment to recover before guiding me onto my hands and knees. And through all of this, his breathing hasn't even quickened. The bastard. 

I expect him to fill me with his cock again, but instead he spreads my arse cheeks and a moment later his hot, wet tongue flicks at my entrance. This is an unexpected turn and unlike any experience I've had with his father. Oropher never pulled out until he was finished. But Thranduil postpones his own pleasure and sticks his tongue inside me instead. He laps at my walls and tongue-fucks me until I am hard and aching again. After a few minutes of this he smacks my arse and mounts me. His cock slides inside easily, smooth and hot, and he resumes thrusting as if there had been no interruption.

His fingers grip the back of my neck, holding my head down as he pounds into me. I have to bite my lip to keep myself from moaning incessantly. I've never been quite this vocal during sex. 

Thranduil leans over me until his lips brush the tip of my ear. "Is the real thing better?" he asks, punctuating the question with a well-aimed thrust.

"Aye!" My answer is something between an ecstatic cry and a miserable groan. If I know Thranduil at all, he wants to satisfy me better than his father did, but having it confirmed that he does will make him feel guilty.

I wish I could tell him his father wasn't concerned with my pleasure, but I believe that would be a lie. Oropher's was a different kind attention, born of a desperate need to possess more than just my body. In his own way, I think he did care for me—and that is exactly what Thranduil fears. 

I squeeze around his length to distract him from his thoughts, and I'm rewarded with his first real moan since we started. It sends shivers running through me. I start to feel the first signs of another imminent climax. Thranduil doesn't take me in hand this time; he gets lost in his own pleasure, and as his urgency builds I begin to wonder if I'll even be able to sit after he's done. Never in my long life have I been fucked this thoroughly. 

Thranduil suddenly stiffens above me, and the sound he makes as he comes is enough to bring me over the edge with just a few quick tugs on my cock. I reach behind me and grab his arse, holding him close as I spasm around his dick. He's filled me with copious load of come; I can feel it spread and begin to leak out as I continue to rock back against him.

He places a kiss between my shoulder blades as he pulls out, saying, "That was incredible. I am privileged to have you."

"The privilege is all mine," I say, because that's the truth.

He lies down on his side, pulling me against him, and kisses my shoulder. "Rest now, melethron," he says softly. "Tomorrow I want you to start thinking about who is to replace you."

It takes a moment for the words to sink in. Then I whip my head around. "Replace me?"

He smiles. "Not _here._ No, I want you to choose someone to take over your duties as butler." 

I don't find his words as reassuring as he perhaps expected. "It is only two weeks—they'll manage without me for that long. It's happened before."

"I meant permanently." 

I feel a sinking weight in the pit of my stomach. It seems I cannot gain one thing without losing another.

"Have I not served you well all these years, my lord?"

"Aside from a few mishaps, you have," he says, nuzzling my neck. "But you will be serving me in other ways now."

His tone betrays such delight that I cannot find it within myself to argue right now, but I am far from pleased at the implication of his words. I wanted to be his lover, not his whore.


End file.
